


Bad Decisions

by MixterGlacia



Series: Strike Consume Poison [2]
Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: 049 can't take off the mask and outfit I will die by that, 049: This might as well happen. Adult life is already so god damn weird, 6135: How is he so HOT?! and RESPECTFUL?!!, First Meetings, Multi, Prequel, Rule One: Don't Lie To The Fae, Rule Two: Don't Lose Your Name, fuck gender norms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25284997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixterGlacia/pseuds/MixterGlacia
Summary: A prequel to Bad Blood. Back when 049 first meets 6135 and 035
Relationships: SCP-035/Original Male Character(s), SCP-035/SCP-049 (SCP Foundation), SCP-049/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Strike Consume Poison [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831768
Kudos: 14





	Bad Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> "Take a bow for the bad decisions that we made  
> Bad decisions that we made  
> So we'll make the same mistakes  
> 'Til the morning breaks."  
> -Bastille

It had been a trying day for the Doctor. So many people in need. He was just one man…perhaps he could do with a cup of tea.

The neighbors had spoken of a new bakery. It was run by a lovely woman, and her strange husband. The rumors claimed that there was another man in the shop, but he didn't care. The Doctor was very tired.

He glances at the sign over the door.  Tír na NÓg  ...funny thing to call a bakery. 

"Ah, good evening!" A warm voice calls out. "Do come in."

Ah, she was Irish. That made more sense. "I hope I'm not here too late…"

That's when the man gets a good look at her. She's built powerfully, crowned by long russet curls tied into a bun. 

Utterly _beautiful_.

"Not at all. What can I get you, Doc'?" She smiles like the sun. "I just pulled some soda bread outta the oven, if that strikes your fancy."

"That sounds delightful. I'd also like a cup of earl gray, if you have it."

"Indeed I do. Back in a jiffy." The owner nods before ducking into the back of the shop.

The Doctor retrieves his current journal, jotting down a few notes. From the kitchen, he catches a few snippets of a song.

"-ish I were on yonder hi-"

He smiles beneath the mask. He would have to start coming here more often. 

"Here we are." The woman returns from the kitchen. She sets a basket of baked goods in front of him. 

"Oh, I didn't order anything els-"

"I know." She gives him a look, pouring the tea into his chipped mug. "Call it a gift."

The Doctor sputters for a moment. He can tell she won't be swayed. He sighs, picking up a biscuit. The scent of lavender and rosemary waft through the air.

"I believe you would have an easier time if you removed the mask."

His shoulders jump. When he meets the owner's eyes, they don't look right. The warmth had given way to ice. "Ah, I'm sorry, what was that?"

Her fingers laced together, and she takes a seat across from the Doctor. "Your mask. _Surely_ you can't eat with it on?"

The man freezes. "I can, actually…" He plucks a biscuit from the tray, tucking it into the narrow space between his balaclava and mask. It wasn't easy, but the item was fused to his very _bones_. He had given up on trying to free himself of it long ago.

He catches it this time. The baker's eyes flash gold for a split second. A grin spreads across her face. "I see. You know, I would like to have your name."

It's like an icicle fell from the ceiling, skewering him. The atmosphere in the shop feels dangerous. Like some untameable corner of the world. "Er-... I'm afraid it's not professional to-"

"Oh, come off it."

The Doctor swallows nervously. "I'm sorry-"

"How about this." The woman folds her arms. "We'll trade our secrets. Quid pro quo."

What on earth had he gotten himself into? "I-... alright. But I get to ask first."

"By all means."

"Are you human?" It sounds so stupid when he says it out loud.

The woman laughs, and her voice changes. " _Now_ you're using your head."

She's speaking Latin now…

"No. I'm not human."

The Doctor is stunned. "Oh."

"Now it's my turn." She leans back in her chair. "How did you lose your name?"

Wait, what? "How did you-"

"Answer the question."

His heart _sinks._ "I made a deal." He glances away. Unable to meet her gaze. "A foolish decision."

"I don't think that's true." She leans forward, reaching for the Doctors hand.

He panics, pushing away so quickly that his chair topples over. 

"Is there something wrong, little Lark?" The owner moves over to his side.

"It- uh, it's fine!" He insists. "Isn't it my turn now?"

She chuckles, and before he can react, the woman seizes his hand…

Why was she still _standing_?! 

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Doctor." With a surprisingly strong grip, she hauls him to his feet. "You had a question, did you not?"

"R-right." He can't stop focusing on her warm palm. It had been so long since he was able to touch another. Other than medical procedures. "What's your name?"

"How _forward_ of you. I have many." Before he can object she pats his head. "You can call me Oisin."

That's when the front door opens.

"Ey', Brambles I bought some of that cheese you-" there's a pause. "Who's your friend, babe?"

The Doctor swings his head around to find a man with a porcelain mask on at the door.

"He's that medical fellow you had your eye on. I like him." Oisin leans against the Doctor's side. 

The man in question wishes he hadn't picked this bakery. 

The actor strides over, confidence in each step. "He ain't human, is he?"

He feels _sick._

"I'm not sure. He might have been one, but not for a long time." A warm hand takes his, carefully examining it. "I have a spare room, Doc'. This way you don't have to worry about having a place to sleep."

"I truly appreciate the proposal, but I-"

"Y'know, I'd take his offer, pal." The actor folds his arms.

Wait…'his'?

"We're really friendly, but you know some of our secrets now." The odd fellow chuckles. "We can't really let you rat us out."

"I won't!" The Doctor insists. "I swear I won't!!"

That's when Oisin waves the man off. "Dýo, go check the oven. I want to talk to him."

Dýo whines loudly, and in the blink of an eye, his mask transforms into one of sorrow. "Babe, c'mon!"

Then the woman starts speaking Italian rapidly. The two argue for a moment, then Dýo storms off.

"Sorry about that." She's back to French. "They're so dramatic."

"That's uh... that's okay." He looks to the door.

"I owe you a few explanations, I think." Oisin smiles gently.

"I would appreciate it."

"You'll have to stay in order to get them." 

The Doctor balks. "Why?! I swear, I'll keep your secret!"

"Little Lark, this isn't about secrets. This is about _strategy._ " She guides him upstairs, a strong hand against the small of his back.

"I don't understand."

There's a sound. It's like a tree in a storm. When he looks to his new acquaintance, the Doctor doesn't find a woman.

No, he's staring down a lush willow tree. "... You're a changeling." When he was small, his mother told him stories of the child-stealing creatures. As he grew older, the man had come to believe that there was a scientific explanation for these things. Colic, allergies, even imbalances in the Humors... Yet, he couldn't ignore his own eyes.

"Astute observation." Oisin chuckles. "Think of it this way. If the humans catch onto you, isn't it better to have others on your side?"

The Doctor stares at the floorboards. "I suppose." The number of times he had to abandon a home he _loved_...well he'd stopped counting. The promise of safety is a powerful thing.

"You don't have to live here all the time either. Eventually, you can earn our trust. Do you have questions?"

"Just one, really…" He paces slightly. "I know what you are. What is your companion's deal?"

"Dýo? They're a mask." The changeling responds while gathering bedclothes from a closet.

"I don't follow."

"Best to just ask them directly. Go finish your food, I'll be there in a minute." A thin branch reaches out, curling under the Doctors chin. "Alright?"

He nods curtly. 

"Go on then."

The man doesn't need to be told again. He runs a hand along the railing as he wanders downstairs. It looks like this Dýo character placed a small candle underneath his teapot. At least it wouldn't be stone cold…

"Hey there, Doc'."

He nearly jumps out of his skin. The mask is leaning on the table by the door. The Doctor waves cautiously. "Hello."

"I dunno if Brambles brought this up, but I got a word of warning about selling us out."

"I wouldn't-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you wouldn't." Dýo laughs harshly. "Just know that a large portion of this neighborhood isn't human either."

"... What?"

The actor tilts their head _impossibly_ far. "You think we don't know how to stack the deck? We gotta stick together."

The man lets out a deep sigh. "That makes sense... thank you for informing me." He makes his way back to the table. He pours a fresh cup of tea, dunking one of the biscuits in it. He picks at the food for a while. He had half a mind to inquire about the mask's history, but decides to leave it for another day. Then Oisin shows back up, once more wearing the face of a beautiful woman.

"Alright, Lark. I've got a room set up for you. I made sure to add some blank journals, since you seem to go through them quickly."

...Wow. "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you."

The changeling chuckles, patting the Doctors shoulder as she drifts past. "You're welcome. Also, there's no need to be overly polite. You can let your hair down...so to speak."

…He doesn't know why folks always think that. The Doctor could be down right rude if he wanted. "Okay. I'll turn in soon."

Oisin smiles. She leans down and gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Good lad. I'll see you in the morning." With that, she leaves the shop.

At one in the morning.

That's odd. He turns to Dyo. "Pardon me, but where could she be going at this hour?"

The mask's grin _deepens_. "Monster's gotta eat too."

Ah...he doesn't want to know more.

* * *

The Doctor is startled by the sound of a door slamming. He blinks blearily, glancing out of the window. The sun was just barely starting to rise. Hardly any time goes by when his door creaks open.

A strange man pokes his head inside. The Doctor reacts with alarm, tumbling out of the bed.

"Hey, calm down Lark. It's me, Oisin!"

...oh. "I uh... I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's okay." The changeling shakes off the form easily. "I should have announced myself."

The Doctor nods, unsure of what to say.

"Did you get any sleep?" Oisin asks, branches creaking as she(...he?) stretches.

"I did, actually. I haven't had a bed this nice for quite some time." 

"Good." The fae strides up to him. "You're fun to spoil."

"Uh, I hope you don't plan on making this a _habit_ …" He ducks his head.

Oisin tilts his head. "Why not? You deserve it."

The Doctor is glad for his mask at the moment. It does a grand job of hiding his embarrassed flush. "I can't possibly hope to repay you."

That earns him a scoff. "I have half a mind to be offended. My dear Lark, all I need is your company." Oisin brushes by to look out at the city. "If you'd like to go out for breakfast, I know a good place. After that, you can get back to healing the city."

"I thought I had to _earn_ unsupervised outings?"

The changeling gives him a dirty look. "At _night_ , yes. During the day, we all have our facades to keep hidden. I have my bakery, Dýo has his acting troupe, and you have the plague-stricken." He weaves his branches back into the familiar woman. "Now then, are you hungry?"

The Doctor nods, getting to his feet. "Forgive me for all the assumptions…"

Oisin brushes some dust from the tall man's shoulder. "You're forgiven. Give me a second to check on Dýo, and we'll be on our way.

He vanishes into the hall, and the Doctor pokes his head out. He can hear a few snippets of the conversation.

"You gotta be careful, Brambles. Y' remember how the last one went…"

"If he turns on us, you'll get a new host. Besides, _you_ were the one to pick up that selkie."

A chill goes down the Doctor's spine.

"Tch...fine. I reserve the right to tell you off if he bails."

"Fine by me. I'll see you at lunch."

"Yeah, whatever…"

"If you want to be an ass, I guess you don't want a kiss."

"Wait, babe, no! I'm sorry!!"

"... Hm. Alright." There's a gentle sound. "Behave yourself."

"No promises. Love you, Oisin."

"Love you too, Dýo."

The Doctor waits at the top of the stairs, glancing at the changeling as he comes into the hall.

"You know, I don't like _evesdroppers_."

The Doctor freezes. "I'm sorry I-"

Oisin snickers, linking arms with him. "I'm just giving you a hard time, Lark."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Well, I can't just call you _Doctor_ , now can I?" His eyes twinkle with amusement. "It's the mask. It makes you look like a bird, and I like the way Lark sounds."

"Oh...that works."

"Good. Come along."

The Doctor follows his strange new friend into the cool morning air. Perhaps this was a golden opportunity...

**Author's Note:**

> i stg these idiots. Fun Fact: in the initial draft of Bad Blood, there was going to be a running theme of Ash going through names (I.E. Ashley, Ashton, Asher) until they just said FUCK IT and picked ash.


End file.
